


Getting by with a little help

by lavishsqualor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Preseries, Recreational Drug Use, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 20:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavishsqualor/pseuds/lavishsqualor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean helps Sam get high for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting by with a little help

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [First Times commentfic meme](http://spnroundtable.livejournal.com/278760.html) at LJ spnroundtable. Unbeta'd - so very sorry if it sucks ass. Title clearly appropriated from The Beatles' song...

Sam recognized that smell. No, he'd never smoked pot before, but he'd spent enough time in sleezy motels and sketchy neighborhoods to be familiar with the scent. He'd only gone out the back door of the shack John had left him and Dean to squat in to see if Dean was hungry, whether he wanted Sam to attempt to cook some dinner.

As the door with more holes than actual screen squeaked shut behind him, Sam located Dean. He was down at the end of the property, sitting on the bank of the creek that meandered by, half obscured by skeleton trees. Dean heard Sam approaching - damn crackling twigs giving him away, he really did need to work on his stealthiness, like his dad was always harping on him to - and swung his head around, a wide grin coming across his face.

"Hey, Sammy. Whatcha doin'?"

"Just wondering if you're hungry," Sam replied. "Want me to make some grilled cheese or something?"

"That sounds awesome. Not starving yet though. Can we wait a bit? 'Til the munchies kick in?"

Sam nodded. Of course they could wait, though he was quite hungry himself, had been hours since the measly lunch he could afford in this noname town's high school cafeteria.

"Where'd ya get that?" Sam asked, even though he didn't care about Dean's answer at all, just felt like staying out here with his older brother a little longer.

"This?" Dean held up the joint he had pinched between his thumb and his forefinger. "Oh, just some girl. Gave her a ride home last night. Said she wanted to thank me somehow, though this wasn't what I'd really had in mind. Not complaining though."

Sam watched the dirty water skid around a few large rocks that broke through the surface and breathed in deep. He really enjoyed the smell, earthy, green, a little like the incense Dean occasionally burned. Dean looked over, raised his eyebrows and asked, "Wanna try?"

The apprehensive look that came over Sam's face urged Dean to add, "Come on, Sammy. Nothing to be afraid of. You'll like it. Promise."

Sam trusted Dean. Trusted Dean knew him better than he knew himself. And he was definitely intrigued. Asked, "Well, what do I need to know?"

At that Dean laughed, almost guffawed actually. "Nothin' much. Just hold it to your mouth, but don't close your lips on it, least not tight. And just breath in, nice and deep. Hold it in your lungs as long as you can."

"'Mkay." Sounded easy enough. Sam scooted a little closer on the grass and took the joint from Dean, tried to emulate the way Dean held on to it. He lifted it to his lips, and just like Dean instructed him, breathed in as deep as he could.

"Hmph." With that, the small amount of smoke Sam had managed to inhale escaped his mouth, and he coughed a little.

"Not too bad, Sammy. Why don't you try hitting it again?"

Sam wasn't one to ignore a worthwhile suggestion of his brother's, so he did. This time, it worked a little better - he was able to hold it in a lot longer, but still found he couldn't get a very big drag. After a moment, he exhaled, and couldn't hide the small, proudful grin creeping across his face.

"Wicked!" Dean exclaimed. "You feeling anything yet?"

Come to think of it, Sam did feel a little different, sorta like how he felt after Dean let him drink a couple of beers. "Think so. A little."

A devious look appeared on Dean's face as he closed the rest of the space between them and said, "Got an idea." He placed a warm palm on Sam's thigh and reached out with his other hand. Sam passed the almost finished joint back to Dean, wondering what in the world Dean's idea could be.

"You ever heard of shotgunning?" Dean asked, somewhat timidly. Sam didn't know his brother to be timid - what the _hell_ could shotgunning be? He held Dean's gaze and shook his head.

"'Kay. Well, I just, just wanna help you get _real_ stoned. May as well go balls out your first time, right?" Sam nodded, comforted by the warmth of Dean's leg and shoulder against his own, the weight of Dean's hand resting on him.

Dean continued, "So, I'm just gonna take a hit, and then pass it to you."

Sam had no idea what Dean was talking about. How the hell could you _pass_ smoke?

Fuck. Something clicked in Sam's mind, and he thought he might have an idea of what Dean was talking about. He thought his face was giving him away with a nervously excited look, but wasn't sure when Dean displayed a similar expression.

"You'll see. Will be totally worth it," Dean assured. He threw the joint into the creek as it'd burned down to his fingers. Reached into his pocket, pulled out and opened a pack of Reds, and grabbed another one. He lit it with his Zippo and looked back at Sam. No, Sam was right. Dean looked anxious, but hidden slightly below that, eager.

Dean took a large drag of the pot. And Sam couldn't help but think for a fleeting moment that his brother looked damn sexy when he smoked.

Dean turned toward Sam, replacing his hand on Sam's thigh. Then he leaned in, and Sam couldn't pretend he didn't know what was about to happen. He leaned in as well, even as Dean brought his hand up, placed it on the side of Sam's face.

But it was Sam that closed the remaining gap between them. He parted his lips and met Dean's. Breathed in, deep, as Dean expelled the warm smoke into his mouth.

Dean's lips left his, and Sam tried his damnedest not to let himself feel disappointed. But he couldn't look away from Dean, there was something foreign in his eyes, something Sam swore looked akin to _wanting_. Sam held it in as long as he could, and finally let go.

Dean gave him a solid pat on the back, then let his hand remain a little longer than usual. Sam smiled wide at his brother and said, "That was awesome, Dean. Can already feel it." When Dean smiled back, Sam added, "Another one?"

"Yeah, Sam. 'Course."

Dean lifted the joint to his lips, his full lips, that Sam had always secretly thought were way more gorgeous than any girl's he'd ever seen - not that he'd _ever_ tell Dean that.

This time Sam was ready, and he lifted a hand of his own when Dean turned back to him, gingerly cupped Dean's jaw. Dean's hand had been planning the same move, so instead he wound it around, twined his fingers into the hair at the nape of Sam's neck. The meeting of their mouths was more coordinated this time, more gentle as well. Sam breathed in deep, taking in not only the marijuana smoke that Dean transferred to him, but also the smell of it, and more importantly, the smell of _Dean_. It wasn't often enough that he got to savor that smell anymore, not since John insisted they sleep in separate motel beds, always paying for a cot when there weren't enough rooms available. And Sam _missed_ it. Hadn't even really realized how much until now, having had the chance to be reacquainted.

This time was different, not only because Sam was ready, and it wasn't only that he was actually getting the hang of it, but this time Dean didn't pull away as quickly. He let his lips linger against Sam's much longer than necessary, pulling away only when Sam exhaled.

Sam was totally high now, he knew that, and he knew Dean was too, his glazed, pink eyes enough to give him away. But that wasn't what caused him not to release his grip on Dean's jaw, to say, "Dean," with what he knew contained an embarrassing amount of longing.

"Sammy."

Sam took the plunge, fuck the need for shotgunning as an excuse, he knew Dean wanted this just as bad as he did, could see it in his eyes, blown wide and pupils large. There was only a couple inches separating them, but Sam moved with the speed it'd have taken to close a couple yards, and smashed his mouth against his brother's with more urgency than he'd ever felt. Without the whole smoke-passing thing, this was so much better. Dean pressed back firmly, and continued to run his fingers through Sam's hair, now grabbing tight, pulling Sam closer.

Sam was more than aware of the fact that he was ripped off his ass. But he also knew that that had nothing to do with this - this thing that was finally happening between him and Dean, this thing that he'd always wanted, though he'd never exactly articulated it, even to himself. This was just them.  



End file.
